


Weakness

by MadiYasha



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sickfic, sicktion fiction hell ya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadiYasha/pseuds/MadiYasha
Summary: Because I'm always a slut for sickfic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really love sickfic, actually, but I never write it because I love it so much that I get too excited and can't finish it. Somehow, I powered through this one? There's a severe lack of Rocket Fic, I think that's what did it.
> 
> This was a perfect opportunity to make Jess Suffer(tm) which I love doing to strong and tenacious characters. Sorry girl. Hope you can forgive me.
> 
> Obviously, this takes place in XY! In all my Pokemon knowledge, I think I made it pretty canonical? Gourgeist is a Pumpkaboo still, they're on their way to Dendemille, etc etc. I think that'd place it around episode 75. Also, I really do not watch the dub, so sorry if some of these characters seem a tad stuck in the past. Pretend it's an AU where TPCI never killed my childhood in front of my eyes.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

The trek to Dendemille was longer than the trio had originally anticipated.

They could only rest when the trainers they were pursuing rested, shackled in place to a schedule that was not their own. Keeping up was hard enough, on top of constant blastoffs, a lack of funds, and dangerously empty stomachs. Alongside that, the winds ripping around the route had proven unfavourable for their trusty balloon, and it had been far too long since they’d walked at such length entirely on foot. Team Rocket did not live the most luxurious life. But there was freedom, there was opportunity, and there was each other. Despite the hardship, they carried onward through the chill that was slowly settling in for the night, relying on their passion and drive to keep them warm.

James heard his partner sneeze again behind him, more sharply this time. It must've been the 50th time since they'd started walking. A slight pang of worry struck him as he looked back at her. Both of them were painted red from the wind but she seemed a little bit worse for wear. In a desperate attempt for warmth, Jessie grabbed at her hair and pulled it around her shoulders like a scarf, and James had to look away for fear of giggling at her. He’d seen her do that a few times, and it never stopped being adorable. Turning away, he opened his mouth to offer optimism, but was met with venom and a typical unrelenting tangent of complaining before he could say a word.

“It’s freezing!” Jessie proclaimed, her words sounding half like white-noise to her teammates at this point. “We’re nowhere near the mountains and already we’re being assaulted with this at every turn. Why didn’t either of you prepare for this?! Why are we still in our uniforms?! We could’ve at least fashioned some stylish winter outfits!”

“We asked ya if ya wanted ta bring a coat, Jess,” Meowth stated, somewhat sarcastically. “But you said you was fine, an’ Jimmy ‘n’ I ain’t really bothered either.”

James nodded in agreement. “Too late to go back to the balloon now. We’re behind enough as it is…”

“Unbelievable. No respect. I’m a helpless, shivering waif! It’d be nice if _someone_ around here was a gentleman!”

“You’ll survive, Jessie. We’ve powered through much worse.”

“James is right. What’s the big deal, anyways? Ya wore dat tiny uniform in the snow more’dn once!”

“Easy for you to say,” She sighed, suddenly downtrodden. “You’ve got fur.”

“In any case,” James chimed in. “There’s a cabin right ahead. Let’s set up camp before it gets too dark.”

A more uplifting mood instantly swept across the group as they made a beeline for the shimmering oasis of hope plastered on the horizon; dreaming of kotatsus and a fire untouched by whipping winds and a roof above their heads.

* * *

Jessie had known something was off as soon as she started shaking in what was, in all honesty, a pretty barely-below-average temperature. Cold weather was her element, her _domain_. She ran barefoot through snow and did it with the biggest smile on her face, from childhood to long into her adult years. Presently, though, she could feel her throat tightening uncomfortably, her head feeling foggy, still trapped in the throes of a chill that refused to leave her body long after she’d stepped inside the cabin. It was pretty evident, to her at least, that she was coming down with something.

 _Buuuut_ , her thoughts teetered around in a haze, _maybe if I don’t admit it to myself, I don’t have to admit it to them_.

Her breath hitched suddenly and she yanked the blanket around her tighter as she stifled yet another painful sneeze into her wrist. Jessie looked upwards dazedly, eyes moist and half-lidded and cherry lips parted ever so slightly. When a second didn’t come, she sniffed back the uncomfortable burning sensation it left and swallowed the pitiful groan that she instinctively wanted to make.

She nearly jumped when James leaned over and thrust a pack of tissues with its wrapper peeled back in her direction, the warm expression on his face layered with the slightest bit of concern.

“Thanks,” She mumbled, taking the whole thing ungracefully and patting her nose with one in an attempt to not ruin what was left of today’s makeup.

“You catching a cold, Jess?” James asked, completely rhetorically.

“As if. We have work to do, you know.”

Her partner blinked, and Jessie said nothing more--as if what she had just stated made absolute, perfect, irrefutable sense. James went to speak again, but she cut him off in her typical fashion, boisterous as ever.

“Something in the air here is just bothering me. You should know by now that petty ailments like that don’t even stand a ch… ah--”

He nearly rolled his eyes as her hitching stutters turned into more stifles. He was almost embarrassed for her, with how quickly she ate her words, but chose not to press the issue any further lest he incite her famous wrath.

Jessie slowly pulled the crumpled tissue away from her face, a little less elegantly than she intended, and drew her blanket as closely around her shoulders as she could. The idea of having to keep up the facade was already exhausting.

 _Better said than done,_ she mused. _But! I am an actress, after all._

* * *

James was bored and frankly, driven just a bit mad at this song and dance, by now. Jessie excelled at many things, but subtlety was not one of them. She was wrapped in every spare blanket in the cabin and huddled up against the fire, covers pulled up to her eyes in a futile attempt to hide the flush across her face. It would’ve been cute, if she wasn’t under the impression that her current state wasn’t completely obvious. Instead it was just kind of pitiful.

They’d all been together for years at this point. If one of them so much as brushed their teeth differently in the morning, everyone in the vicinity would be painfully aware of it. That was the trio’s own brand of in sync-ness. There were always surprises, yes, but a pretty consistent pattern of group empathy & awareness.

James and Meowth both knew Jessie was getting sick as soon as she started complaining about a slight breeze. It always started that way. And every time, she thought she could hide it, which usually ended up making her team equally as ill--just with secondhand embarrassment. Every time, she would push herself to her absolute limits until she was forced to bed by her teammates. James struggled to find his sympathy, at this point, because he was tired of the whole routine and just wanted to get to the part where she swallowed her pride and let her friends take care of her. In truth, he was worried quite a bit--the feeling of it radiating painfully from a fiery hole in his heart--and he wanted only to fuel that worry into being a caretaker, but Jessie continuously built up these walls preventing his help, and it frustrated him to tears sometimes.

Meowth suddenly stirred from his nap with a quiet trill, then slowly stood up and headed toward the cabin door. He looked back knowingly at James, and the man nodded. James knew where he was going without words at this point. In due time, the pokémon of the forest would be showered by the calm notes of an acoustic guitar and a wandering mind.

Jessie was still cocooned in a nest of blankets, jolting awake as she dozed off again and again. Behind the shelter of her covers she sniffled desperately, her eyes watering and tired from holding back even more sneezes that would be all too telling. Her partner observed the sight with what little compassion he could muster and got up to set out the bedrolls.

“Let’s turn in for the night. We have a long day ahead of us if we’re going to catch up to team twerp.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She responded, secretly eager for the cover of sleep.

 

 

It was the dead of night when James stirred again, blearily opening his eyes and willing them to focus in the darkness. The full moon shone through the cabin window and illuminated the far corner of the room, where Meowth had returned and curled up in a tight circle. Sluggishly, James turned his head to the source of what seemingly woke him.

Jessie was dead asleep, but trembling in her dreams just enough that it had stirred him. She’d kicked or thrashed or done _something_ that had knocked the covers clean off of her, and was lying there with her hands drawn around her forearms and her hair an absolute jungle. His inherent need to take care of her battled with the voice in his head that scolded her every time they went through these motions-- _you brought this on yourself, you know._

In the end, however, James couldn’t just stand idly by while she suffered. He was smitten, after all. She could annoy him from dusk til dawn and when the sun rose over the horizon, he would still be hopelessly in love with her. Sighing softly, he sat up and scooted out of his bedroll on his knees, and as quietly as he could possibly muster, James pushed his mat closer to hers until they formed a makeshift futon. Gazing proudly down at his whole 2 minutes of hard work, he doubled up their blankets, laid down, and wrapped his arms around her.

Jessie shivered again, and James felt another small pang of worry--she was warmer than usual and his skin on hers probably felt more frigid than he’d hoped. He could only pray that eventually their body heat would even out, and that she could manage to sleep alright as the night dragged on. He gently tucked some of her hair behind her ear and hugged her waist more firmly, lazily burying his face into her neck and begging repose to take the both of them again.

The last thing he remembered was her breathing evening out before he finally fell back asleep.

* * *

Jessie woke up, and immediately regretted every decision she had made in her life thus far.

Okay, well, maybe that was an exaggeration. But her throat was an arid desert and it absolutely _ached_ with every breath she took. The fog in her brain had completely overtaken her, her nose was running like a damn faucet, and she was still _ridiculously fucking freezing_.

Pissed off at the universe for thinking it could try and hold her back like this, Jessie jolted upwards and _oh god, bad idea,_ **_bad bad idea_ **. The world spun around her and she blinked her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop it, watching the stars dancing behind her lids. Slowly, much more carefully this time, she rose to her feet and journeyed to the closet, grabbing both of the spare jackets and layering them over the uniform she was squeezing herself into.

The redhead threw the door into the next room open with far more force than she normally would first thing after waking up. This totally wasn’t suspicious at all to her teammates, who were enjoying what was left of their meager breakfast in said room. The five of them lazily turned their heads to Jessie in near perfect sync, eyes questioningly glancing up and down her obscure morning--noon?--fashion choices. She immediately spoke, forcing her voice past the soreness lingering in her throat.

“What on earth are you all doing dawdling like this?!” She erupted. “What time is it?! Did none of you have the mind to wake me?!”

“An’ risk buttin’ heads wid a pissed off Jessie foist thing in da mornin’?” Meowth remarked. “I mean, Wobbuffet offered, but I told him I valued him too much as a friend ta let him die like dat!”

“Wobbuffet,” He confirmed.

The fire in Jessie’s eyes crackled and spat, and James instantly jumped in in an attempt to assuage it. God forbid she push herself even more in all her rage.

“We decided maybe we should take it easy today, right?” James turned to the room full of pokémon, pleased when they all played along and nodded. “Jessie, we’ve been working ourselves to the bone lately! When’s the last time we took a break?”

“That kind of attitude is why we keep losing, James! Every second we waste, the twerp and his rat get farther away from us! You know there isn’t a gym anywhere near here, so he’s not exactly going to be sticking around!”

James’ voice was a calm rain-shower tending to the out of control blaze tearing through Jessie’s soul. “There’s a Showcase in Dendemille, though. They’ll stay for a while so the twerpette can perform, right?”

She looked genuinely surprised. He immediately realized his mistake. _Wait, shit._

“ _Showcase?!_ ” She absolutely roared.

“Well, so much for takin’ it easy, there, James.” Meowth scoffed.

Jessie’s temper had quickly morphed into passionate tenacity, and she found it much, much easier to forget how absolutely horrid she felt. Sure, every muscle in her face ached with the layover of congestion, and sure, she was wearing two jackets in a pretty pathetic attempt to combat the chills she’d been suffering from for the past twelve hours, but now she had _something_ to distract her! Her arms raised with determination, she made a beeline for the cabin door, vehemently ignoring the fact that it felt as if she was moving through a wave of molasses.

Somewhere along the way, however, her feet tangled and her vision swam and she hurriedly threw her open palm against the wall in an attempt to steady herself. Jessie gritted her teeth as she pulled herself back to her feet. Weakness was not an option, especially not in front of _her whole damn team_. She felt all of their eyes on her and it only thickened the weight that was pressing down on her; some sick, twisted, mega-evolved gravity. Her stomach churned anxiously.

She knew what James was trying to do, and it made every word that came out of him all the more aggravating. She hated, _hated_ that he could see right through her. She didn’t want anyone to be that intimately privy to the finer details of what slept inside of her.

“Jessie, dearest,” His voice was tender, and it made her even more livid. “Are you alright?”

 _Absolutely not,_ she thought.

“Absolutely,” She nearly spat, pressing forwards. “Never felt better!”

And as soon as the sentence left Jessie’s lips, she was down. The cabin walls were a cedar spiral around her and she completely faded from the waking world for a moment as her knees buckled. There was a scrambling of at least 8 individual feet, and it was a miracle they didn’t all collide into each other, fickle as their luck was. Jessie’s eyes slowly fluttered open as she came back, and she could see James’ shining green gaze scanning her nervously. She brought one of her hands to her mouth and coughed harshly as he blurred out of focus again.

 _Well,_ she thought, defeated. _Cover blown. Nothing left to do now but milk this situation for all it’s worth. Good performance, Jessie._

“It was a lie, James,” She weakly proclaimed. “I’m dying. This is the end the world has chosen me to meet. Wobbuffet, Pumpkaboo, my precious darlings… how much your trainer loves you. But it’s time for us to part ways, now…”

Pumpkaboo gazed upon Jessie as she lay there in James’ arms, tears pricking the corners of the specter’s shining eyes. She floated forward and started chattering hysterically before Wobbuffet pulled her away and started consoling her in their language. _Jessie’s fine,_ he whispered. _She’s just being a drama queen._

Turning away from the spectacle, James sighed.

“You’re not dying, Jessie, you’re just sick.” He rested the back of his hand on her cheek, gradually moving it up to her forehead. “And you’re absolutely burning up, did you really think you were going to get anything done with such a high fever?!”

She pouted. “You guys always say that.”

“‘Cause ya never take it easy ‘n’ den ya get sick way more den us…” Meowth chimed in.

“Not my fault I consider laziness to be an unattractive trait!”

“Dat’s rich comin’ from someone who practically slept in til da murkrow started callin’!”

“Please, enough.” James whined.

“Enough is right… what kind of evil sleeps in your soul that you’d argue with a poor, fragile woman on her deathbed? Have you no sympathy? Have you no heart?”

“That means you too, Jess. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Wretches, the lot of you… absolutely despicable…”

Jessie threw a hand over her brow for dramatic effect as James gently rose to his feet to carry her back into the bedroom. Her voice was rich with faux-sadness, an actress turning to the director and asking for her eyedrops so she could really nail her next scene. He didn’t care to argue with her, didn’t care to let her know she was blowing things out of proportion as always. James was merely grateful that she had finally softened herself to them, even if it was in her own eye-rollingly theatrical way. With his best friend in his arms, James felt all the tension in his shoulders melt away like snowfall on a sunny mountaintop.

 

* * *

_Unbelievable,_ Jessie simmered. _They force me to slack off and then they leave me here all by my lonesome_.

The fever assaulting Jessie presently was expertly designed by whatever higher power ruled over this universe to be the most personally-tailored annoyance she had ever come to experience, high enough to keep her off her feet but not enough to knock her out entirely. She had never felt so restless in her life, but if she so much as even tried to get up she knew her body would betray her yet again. She threw what had to have been at least tissue number 70 into the basket adjacent from her, and scoffed when she missed and it went tumbling to the floor below. Closing her eyes in absolute resignation, she barely registered the flash of sparkling light that came to life besides her.

When she opened her eyes again, there was a jet black face staring right at her, pin-pricked with a bright orange gaze. She jolted upwards, startled, feeling as if her level head stayed on her pillow for a few seconds before snapping up with her. Jessie gasped, then sputtered, then broke out into a coughing fit before she was able to actually take in what was observing her. Finally, she caught her breath, and when her voice came to her it sounded weak and raspy and stuffy and not much like her at all.

“Pumpkaboo, darling....” She whined. “I know you’re a ghost, but don’t jump me like that!”

“Pumkaaa~” She chirped apologetically.

“What are you doing out of your ball?”

The pokémon didn’t respond, electing to instead place one of her wing-like arms against her trainer’s burning cheek before moving in to nuzzle up to her.

“You… you’re worried about me, aren’t you?” Her heart quivered.

The spirit nodded without breaking the embrace, and Jessie felt tears welling up in her eyes. James and Meowth seeing her in moments of weakness was one thing, but her pokémon were a completely different concept. They couldn’t repeat to others those lapses in strength, they didn’t try to fix all her problems for her as if she were helpless. They merely offered comfort, and care, and a listening ear. There was never any malice buried within them, and they loved her without pitying her. In all truth, that last bit was all Jessie wanted out of her life.

Pouting like a child and holding back the urge to cry, the redhead wrapped her arms around Pumpkaboo and hugged her tight. The pokémon responded by holding it for a moment, then nudging her to lay back down, picking up the covers and pulling them back over her trainer. Then, delicately, she retrieved the wet cloth that Jessie had knocked clean off when she sat up in surprise, and positioned it back to its home on her forehead. Finally, floating into the opposite room, Pumpkaboo clumsily grabbed an apple out of the basket on the kotatsu and started making quick work of it on some of the spare cookware lying around. Jessie watched through unfocused eyes as her pokémon sat there chattering and grinding the fruit into a paste as best as she possibly could.

The apples were something James and/or Meowth had to have brought in the night before while she was sleeping, and it was only then that the sight of them made anxiety shoot through her already miserable frame.

They _knew_. From the start.

Before she could get lost in flustered and panicked thoughts, her companion spoke up.

“Ka~kaaka?”

Pumpkaboo was holding out a tiny spoon festooned in apple bits with the brightest, most accomplished fanged smile on her face. Jessie’s heart melted. She’d only known this pokémon for a short time, and here she was going out of her way to take care of the girl and make sure she wouldn’t forget to eat in her fever-induced state. Cautiously, she opened her mouth and leaned into the gesture, attempting to overpower the haze surrounding her mind and making it downright impossible to taste much.

The flavour was weak to her, but still so much better than the feeling of swallowing sand and gunk she’d been dealing with all day. It wasn’t the most decadent meal she’d ever had, but there was heart put into it and try as she might, she couldn’t find it in her to complain. Her face was already red from the temperature but she could feel what would’ve probably been a nervous blush on any other day creeping across her face as she was spoonfed--she was not in any capacity used to or friendly with the concept of anything or anyone taking care of her. She couldn’t entirely tell if she liked it.

When she’d finished eating, she shared a smile with her dearest friend, and the pokémon affectionately buried itself under the covers next to her, trilling softly. Jessie let her eyes rest once more as she wrapped both her arms around Pumpkaboo, cuddling her like it was going out of style. Pumpkaboo melted into the embrace and resolved to nap alongside her precious trainer. Whatever she could do to make her feel better.

“Thank you, Pumpkaboo.” She whispered. “I love you.”

The phantom absolutely beamed as the both of them drifted off.

 

 

When Jessie came to again, it wasn’t one of the sluggish starts she’d been growing used to over the last few hours. No, she near-convulsed awake suddenly and rolled into her side, scrambling for the tissues desperately despite the lack of any proper reflexes she was experiencing. Miraculously, she managed to grab a handful before she succumbed to another relentless fit. When it finally subsided, she laid there, practically hovering outside of her body with the paper pressed against her poor, chapped, abused nose. At this point, she’d given up trying to remain elegant in the agony of her illness. She was certain her teammates had seen her in far more compromising positions, they would just have to deal with this version of her. James’ voice came suddenly, but she really didn’t have the energy to even be properly startled by it.

“ _Bless_ you,” He offered.

“Nnn,” Jessie moaned in response, the thought of speech completely alien to her stuffed up face and burning form and stinging throat and throbbing head.

James chewed the inside of his cheek as he tried to calm his nerves. Okay, Jessie did have a knack for catching cold often (crop tops in the freezing tundra? Really?), and she did also have quite the affinity for making it worse with her headstrong personality, but he hadn’t seen her this sick in a _really long time_ . She didn’t even have the energy to throw snark in his direction, something he’d always seen as second nature to her. The thought crept up on him darkly-- _have I seen her this bad ever?_

He swallowed the feeling and grabbed the washcloth that she had knocked aside in the throes of her fit and dunked it in the water basin beside him. He rung it out and placed it back across her forehead and tried not to fret even moreso when she shuddered despite the heat radiating off her. The back of his hand rested on Jessie’s cheek, and he noticed she’d only gotten warmer since that morning. Then, to James’ surprise, she spoke.

“Where’s… where’s everyone?”

“Sleeping, actually,” He responded. “It’s been a long day.”

“What…?” Half-hearted confusion. “How long have I been out?”

“Quite a while. It’s well past midnight, I’d say.”

She gritted her teeth, and James couldn’t stop his anxiety from spiking even further. _Please don’t do anything reckless,_ he begged her in his mind. _You’re sick enough as is._

“James,”

He gulped. “Yeah?”

“Why aren’t _you_ sleeping?”

His insides were absolutely crawling in light of the sudden interrogation. All day, he’d been picking his words very carefully. Jessie was already someone who you had to tread carefully around if you weren’t used to her--he was--but a fever-ridden Jessie was a completely different being. She was Russian Roulette in every conversation.

“Ah, well…” He stammered. “Because… um…”

_Don’t pity her. She hates that. Construct your words carefully. Treat it like the improvised rhymes you coordinate in the motto, treat it like a tasteful pun to lighten a dark situation. Just because it’s her doesn’t mean you get to forget you're a wordsmith._

“You’re going to get over being so dreadfully sick eventually, but time passes a lot quicker when you’re with people who care.”

Jessie immediately softened. Something foreign crept into her voice.

“You’re awake... because of me…?”

He nodded. To his complete shock, her expression morphed further and she started _weeping_. He nearly came apart alongside her in the moment.

“J-Jessie! Don’t cry, come on!” James said, caught completely off-guard. “What on earth is the matter?”

She buried the lower half of her face underneath her covers, and he could barely make out what she was saying. “I’m a burden! I’m keeping you awake!”

James puzzled. _What? Who is this woman? What did she do with Jessie?_

“I’m bad and taxing and I don’t even make up for it by giving anything back! All I have is my beauty, and that’s out the window right now! I’m a mess!” She was starting to become hysterical. “I’m too much, I’m too much, I’ve always been too much! You’re going to leave me any day now! You’re going to leave me just like everyone else left!”

He had seen her upset before. He’d seen her crying, and heartbroken, and spewing lava through her teeth with tears in her vibrant eyes. But this was much more intense than he was used to, which came as a shock to him--he didn’t know Jessie could _be_ any more intense than she already was. This was the most bared and raw her soul had ever been to him, and he felt completely voyeuristic listening to her as she laid there in tears with her insecurities spilling off her tongue. His instinct whenever anyone yelled or broke down or got heavy on him was to run. During those times, he didn’t have anything but his fight or flight response. In all honesty, James was scared. He was scared he had said the wrong thing, scared he would continue to say the wrong thing, scared his words would come out like mush and break her heart even more.

 _For once in your life, stop being a coward._ He steeled himself.

“Jessie,” He leaned down next to her, hesitantly brushing a freshly-fallen tear off her blazing cheek. “You’re not too much. Even at your worst, you’re the best that’s ever happened to me.”

She sobbed harder, burying her face in her covers. James dreamed his words soothing and tender, but his voice shook as he spoke.

“I know how easy it can be to see the face of someone who hurt you in every person who loves you thereafter.”

He was trembling.

“But, please. Let me be your exception.”

She bawled harder before she was okay. Jessie unearthed herself with what little strength she had, grabbed him tightly around the waist, and absolutely clung to him. He was wordless, stroking her tangled hair, listening to the gentle sounds of her crying as it slowly petered out into nothing. James knew her, he knew how she was an angry crier and how she hated every second of it and how it always gave her a headache. He prayed that his fingers writing melodies onto her head would mitigate the oncoming migraine. She had suffered too much. Today, and always.

“Jessie?” He pressed his luck.

She responded softly, and with some hesitation. “Yes?”

“All of this… is this why you never tell us when you aren’t feeling well?”

Jessie was quiet, her eyes half-lidded, her eventual voice somber. Thick, dark clouds still pushed achingly at the inside of her skull. She pressed onward, regardless.

"N-no, it's... I don’t know how.”

Curiously, he peered into her, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I…” Her brain was murky. The sentences felt like she was watching someone else speak them with her body. “It’s always been just me. The thought of someone I love stopping their entire world to ensure my comfort is one of the most alien and terrifying things I can think of.”

He shook his head. “Jess, dearest, even if you wanted to, even with how strong you are, I don’t think you could stop us. Don’t you understand? We’re a team. You don’t have to rely on only yourself anymore.”

She said nothing. The smile that found its way to her was one of absolute gratitude, though she couldn't meet his gaze. James could only barely see it in the blackness, but for once in his life he felt as if he’d done something right.

“And you don’t have to tell us, anyways.” He added. “The three of us, we share a soul! You know it’s obvious when one of us isn’t doing so hot. We all feel it.”

“I know,” She sighed. “I knew as soon as I saw the apples.”

James grinned. “A feverish Jessie without her apples is a force to be reckoned with.”

Her laughter was soft, softer than he’d ever heard before. It permeated the barely-lit room as if it were starlight. A comfortable silence blanketed them for a while, the gentle sound of their breathing all that remained.

Jessie pulled herself out of his lap, just as lethargically as she’d been all day. She leveled with him, so her tired eyes were meeting his, her hands down in front of her to keep her balance. James was visible by only the glow of the stray lantern illuminating the room, the shadows on his face painting him as warmly as ever. Inspecting him with a childlike curiosity, Jessie spoke again, her voice like a prayer.

“You said… you loved me.”

He nodded immediately. “I did. I do.”

There was an intensity in her eyes that set ablaze the darkness around them, and she motioned toward him with unheard of precision and grace, in spite of everything holding her back. One of her hands moved away from the worn cabin floor and to James’ face, and the feeling of her skin caressing his made him shiver weakly. He was so lost. The last 10 minutes had been a rollercoaster. He didn’t understand why she was looking at him that way, with glazed eyes impassioned and worn hands tender against him. Her words were sugar-sweet and they soaked right into his very soul. So simple, so common, and yet something about the way they were lilting away from her made his whole body catch fire.

“I love you, too.”

His heart pounded in his ears, he could feel the relentless blush creeping into his face. Her breath was warm against him, her lips traces away from his own. His voice was wanting, but restrained, and he struggled to keep his right mind. Was this real? Was this a dream?

“You’re delirious. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“There’s so many secrets I will take to my grave,” She muttered darkly. “But I don’t want loving you to be one of them.”

James could practically hear the record scratch in his head. He couldn’t help it--he broke what definitely could have almost been a kiss and succumbed entirely to his immediate instinct to crack up. The butterfree in his stomach flew the coop, his mood changed completely. He didn’t even have time to mourn what could’ve been. Jessie pouted in response, almost childishly so. James was surprised she didn’t up and smack him.

“Oh my god, Jess, you’re not dying.”

“A dying woman’s confession of love!” She howled. “And you have the nerve to laugh at me!”

“Come _here_ ,” He chuckled, pulling her back into a hearty embrace while she continued pouting. She was either completely delusional (something she was often the victim of even when not horrendously ill) or she was gaining her ability to joke back. James couldn’t help but notice her nervously fiddling with her robe when he raised his arm to check her temperature again.

“Hey, I think your fever broke.”

He could see the Jessie he knew light up the darkness when she spoke. “It’s about damn time!”

“What a relief. Do you think you can handle it if I finally get myself to bed, Jess?”

“Sleep to your heart’s content!” She shouted weakly, her throat still begging her to stop. “I have a whole day’s worth of work to catch up on!”

“You absolutely do not.” He sighed. “Last time you did that your fever relapsed and then you had _two_ days worth of work to catch up on.”

“Past me is a weakling,” Jessie scoffed. “I’m stronger now!”

“Please just rest for a little longer! It’s too soon to say you’re better. Come on.”

She lunged forward to get up. “James, I told you, I’m doing fine n… no… w--”

He sighed and rubbed small circles into her back as she sneezed again, this time a lot more pitifully than the last. She’d effectively depleted the tissue source with her previous fit and he watched as she sniffled miserably and deeply, still not free of the shackles her body had tightly wrapped around her. He’d hoped she’d get the hint and abandon her hubris at the door.

“‘Fine,’ you said?”

“Ugh, you win.” She moaned. “But you all better be up and training when the sun rises! We have a lot of work to do if I’m going to be Queen!”

James was smiling the whole way as he set up his bedroll next to hers. He wasn’t going to press the issue, he was just happy she’d agreed to take it even a little easy. “Yes, dear.”

With both of them satisfied, they assumed their rightful positions and snuggled into the warmth of the covers. Silence fell unto the room again, and James sighed gently as his anxiety crept back over him and burrowed into his chest like a thousand durant. Jessie had let quite a lot of important details slip. Was he supposed to acknowledge them? Ignore them? Were half of them even real thoughts, or the musings of a dissociated mess in the deepest throes of illness? His head felt heavy and swam with doubt.

Jessie pushed her arm into his space, wrapping herself around his chest and hugging him as if he were the last man on earth. She pressed her forehead into his hair and he couldn’t help but notice how comfortably they fit together, in oh so many figurative and literal ways. James suppressed a shiver when she spoke and her breath ghosted his neck.

“I meant it.”

He felt respite from it all. God, James hoped he was a good enough caretaker that day, because right now her words were a panacea for every little thing that ever ailed him.

“I cherish you, James…” A soft, chaste kiss painted under his hairline. “Thank you for all you've done.”

“I love you, too.” He felt as if his glow lit the room itself. “Feel better, alright?”

Warm. He was so warm. She was so warm. James could almost feel her smile like a sigil across his back. Her voice was a song. Her touch carried him to a white tomorrow.

 

 

“I already do.”


End file.
